This domain pre-dates the whole brony thing.

Author’s note: I realize that this post officially marks the end of my romantic social life. :(

I’ve enough experience going poop over the course of my life that I would consider myself an expert on the matter. It’s an activity we perform on a pretty regular basis (Haha on you if not!), but it doesn’t stop it from being one of the more ridiculous things to do. As such, there are countless fun stories that I think people should be more willing to share. No shame, right?

In that spirit, I’m going to provide a tale that some family members may already know. I refer to it as “the Pencil Incident”.

It was a day like any other day… Actually, this took place about 5 or 6 years ago, I think over Christmas break. Most of the family had gathered to Colorado and I was crashing at my dad’s place. My dad is one of those guys who doesn’t need a toilet plunger; I bet he has a petite anus or something. Now combine this with a massive overindulgence of holiday food plus ridiculously low-pressure toilets and you’ve yourself got a problematic situation… rather, I had myself a situation.

I don’t wish to brag, but there was a time in my life where I could take rather large dumps. I liked to save up, for efficiency reasons, and I seem to always be in a state of semi-dehydration. This can create a rigid log structure that bends a bit, but won’t break. When you angle things incorrectly, as I did in this case, you run the risk of your poop getting folded into a V shape so that it won’t flush. It’s even worse when water can still pass through, because there isn’t any pressure build-up.

So what does one do without a plunger? I thought about stuffing the toilet with toilet paper in order create a enough pressure to force things through. This seemed like a bad idea on further thought because there was a high likelihood of flooding. I considered waiting for things to soften, but guessed that the breakdown would simply take too long (it is a good method if you have infinite time). In my panic I began to look for tools, and that’s when I saw the pencil.

I was originally eying a toothbrush, but it just felt too wrong. Anyway, a pencil had roughly the same qualities and was far more disposable. I’m sure you can guess my strategy at this point; I was going to stab my poop. To me this was a very simple plan with no possibility of failure. Just a couple quick jabs and the whole mess would be broken up, literally.

One thing I didn’t take into account was how high the water level was. Light refraction is a real bitch, and my pencil did not go nearly as far as I had hoped. This meant that I couldn’t poke all the way through without putting my hand into the water. Ok, plan B: death of a thousand cuts! No effect. And then a moment of brilliance struck- I’ll simply flush the toilet and do my thing when the water level is low! Looking back, I should have just cut off the water which would have saved me a lot of grief, but as they say, hindsight is 20 etc, etc….

I flush; I give it one really good stab. And. Now. It’s. Stuck. In. The. Poop. As I pull the pencil back, this giant V-turd comes with it. It’s one of those moments when you want to cry and ask yourself, “Why is this happening to me?” And then you remember that it’s because you’re an idiot. Surprisingly heavy stuff (the poop, not the realization).

The layperson may think that I was in a superior position, but I can assure you that this was not the case. While the poop was no longer in the toilet, it was dangerously close to me. And I pose this question to you: How does one remove meat from a shish kabob skewer when hands and mouth are no longer acceptable options?

I’m pretty frustrated at this point, so I decide I’m just going to start mashing it into the side of the bowl, and hopefully get the pencil to cut like a butter knife through a very dense and smelly butter. This was my fatal mistake. As all children know, pencils are tools of stabbing, not slicing. My pencil snapped and my poop settled back down into the exact same predicament as before- except that it had a pencil sticking out of it now. I decided to cut my losses and give up. The one last thing I did was throw some toilet paper in to cover the broken pencil so people wouldn’t get suspicious. Then I left.

I don’t know who ended up dealing with the thing. Perhaps some combination of time and my efforts allowed it to be flushed without further ado? Maybe somebody with a better tool set or dirtier hands took care of business and is simply too ashamed to come forth? I like to believe that it’s simply a demonstration of what family does. They clean up after your mess and say nothing of it. Awww, now that’s heartwarming.